Pile technology is an interesting and under-discussed organisational pattern that already shapes how many people actually work, especially in #FOSS and grassroots tech cultures.
Instead of hierarchical structures, formal taxonomies, and rigid workflows, pile-based organisation emerges from accumulation: a directory full of files, browser tabs waiting for attention, TODO lists that grow organically, issue trackers used as thinking spaces rather than strict pipelines, mailing lists and chat logs functioning as living archives
This “pile-first” approach is not laziness or lack of structure – it is adaptive cognition. Humans often work by gathering, clustering, and revisiting material over time rather than pre-defining perfect categorisation systems. Many of the most productive hackers and organisers operate this way by collect first, make meaning later with structures emerging from usage rather than planning.
Why this matters for #FOSS paths – A lot of modern tooling tries to impose rigid models with strict schemas, enforced workflows, heavy governance structures and “one correct way” UX patterns. These approaches frequently fail in grassroots environments because they assume clarity exists at the start. In reality, most innovation emerges from ambiguity, experimentation, and partial understanding.
Pile technology supports exploration without premature optimisation with low barriers to participation and iterative sense-making through organic collaboration. This aligns with successful #FOSS practices of rough consensus and running code, scratchpads and prototype repos, forks as exploratory piles, tagging emerging after content exists. In other words: piles are often the pre-structure phase of successful systems.
The shift from paper piles to digital piles? Historically, piles existed physically: cardboard boxes, stacks of notes, folders on desks, clipping archives and activist pamphlet collections. As work moves digital, the nature of piles changes with infinite accumulation becomes possible, where search can be used to replace physical memory. The risk is that digital tools force artificial structure too early, and replace human piles with opaque algorithmic sorting. Neither reflects how real communities think.
Lessons for effective organising, when we take pile technology seriously, we design systems that: allow messy accumulation without penalty, support multiple overlapping ways to revisit material, make recontextualisation easy (tagging after creation) to preserve chronological flow alongside thematic grouping. This maps directly onto many #openweb values of feeds as flowing piles, links as connective tissue and public commons growing through incremental contributions. Instead of trying to eliminate mess, we build tools that metabolise mess into meaning.
For projects like #OMN, about aiming to rebuild grassroots media and collaborative publishing by start with piles, not categories. Let trust and editorial structure emerge from participation. Treat tagging, curation, and narrative as second-order layers on top of accumulation. Avoid premature schema design that excludes contributors. In practical terms this means newswire-style flows are piles, tag streams are reorganised piles and editorial features are curated piles. This path reframes “messiness” from a problem into a core design feature.
Why this matters right now? Many contemporary platforms bot #dotcons and #FOSS optimise for control, engagement metrics, and monetisation rather than human cognition. They flatten piles into feeds designed by algorithms, removing agency from users and communities. A strong “native” #FOSS path can instead embrace human-scale chaos to feed collective sense-making and preserve autonomy over organisation. Pile technology is not anti-structure – it is pre-structure. Understanding this helps us build tools that grow organically instead of imposing brittle frameworks that collapse under real-world use.
We are feeling a cultural current many of us recognise but rarely name clearly. A feeling that something fundamental has gone wrong, not just politically or economically, but culturally. An experience that imagination has narrowed, participation has thinned, and people are increasingly pushed into the role of spectators rather than participants in shaping the world.
This didn’t appear overnight. It grew out of decades of #neoliberal restructuring that reshaped culture, technology, and social life. Collective institutions were hollowed out, public spaces became marketplaces, creativity became branding and community became “audience”. Instead of shared projects, we were offered platforms, instead of commons, we were given services, instead of any participation, metrics.
This cultural shift produced a generation who feel the weight of a system that seems unavoidable – a reality that presents itself as permanent even as it fails to meet human needs. People sense the limits, but struggle to imagine alternatives because the cultural language for collective agency has been systematically eroded.
This is the environment the #dotcons thrive in, where the #closedweb turns culture into extraction and participation becomes only more engagement metrics. Community, user base, conversation content streams are where cooperation is #blocked due to competition for visibility.
And over time, this reshapes what people think about organising itself. Grassroots action begins to look unrealistic, messy, and inefficient compared to polished controlled platform experiences. Then trust disappears, replaced by algorithmic mediation and institutional management.
Yet beneath this dominant culture, another current has always existed, the #openweb culture, rooted in collaboration, experimentation, shared stewardship, and imperfect but real participation. IP protocol stack built on mailing lists, wikis, federated systems, grassroots media, DIY infrastructures, spaces where people build together rather than consume.
This culture never fully disappeared, as it was needed by the mainstreaming, it was just pushed to the margins. The #OMN project grows from this undercurrent, not as a reaction against technology, as a continuation of the parts of internet culture that treated technology as commons rather than a commodity. It #KISS recognises that infrastructure shapes social behaviour, and that rebuilding a healthier culture requires rebuilding the spaces where people meet, publish, and organise.
The difference is social logic, from social platform ownership grows to shared protocols, from central moderation to community mediation, from passive users to active participants. It’s the change from scale-as-growth to scale-as-federation.
Importantly, this isn’t nostalgia or any path to purity politics. The culture that produces #OMN understands that systems are messy. Grassroots projects fail, fork, and struggle. But instead of seeing this as weakness, it treats messiness as the natural process of collective growth. Composting rather than perfection.
The mistake of both corporate platforms and #NGO approaches is trying to engineer clean solutions to fundamentally social problems. The #geekproblem looks for perfect systems; the grassroots path builds resilient ones through ongoing practice.
This is why affinity groups, federated networks, and the #4opens matter. They create structures where trust emerges from shared action rather than imposed authority. The culture behind #OMN is not defined by ideology alone, it is defined by lived practice of people who build together and communities that govern themselves, to remain open to change
In a world that tells us “there is no alternative,” the simple act of building functioning alternatives becomes quietly radical. And when enough small, federated efforts connect, what once felt impossible begins to look normal again. That is how cultural change happens, not through grand declarations, but through many small working examples growing from shared soil.
For sceptical #FOSS engineers, this isn’t an argument for abandoning structure, security, or technical rigour, it’s the opposite. The lesson from decades of open-source development is that trust does not mean naïveté; it means building systems where failure modes are expected and mitigated through transparency, modularity, and federation. #OMN applies these same engineering principles socially: small loosely-coupled groups instead of monoliths, open protocols instead of platform lock-in, observable processes instead of hidden governance.
If “pure trust” sounds unrealistic, think instead of reproducible builds, version control, and peer review, trust emerges from verifiable processes and shared ownership. The goal isn’t utopian social engineering; it’s creating resilient sociotechnical systems where collaboration scales horizontally because no single node becomes a point of failure or control.
A practical bridge-building approach for the #openweb / #OMN – for grassroots organisers, Fediverse communities, and sceptical #FOSS engineers.
An affinity group is not simply “a group of people who agree.” It is a functional social tool: small enough to build trust, structured enough to act, and open enough to grow.
A working path is to start with purpose, not only ideology. The biggest mistake is forming around identity or theory rather than function. Affinity groups work when they are built around shared work, not shared labels. So for #OMN, instead of saying “let’s build an affinity group for radical media,” we try something concrete like: “a small group committed to building and testing OMN publishing workflows for real users.” A clear, practical purpose lowers defensive reactions and creates common ground.
Ideal size and composition matter. Affinity groups historically work best with around 4–8 people – large enough for diversity, small enough for trust. This avoids both NGO-style bureaucracy and lone-founder burnout. Useful roles include: builder (technical), organiser (social process), storyteller or documenter, critic/tester (essential for reducing groupthink), and connector (linking to the wider network). These are roles, not hierarchy.
Trust must be built through practice. Many people distrust grassroots projects because they have seen “pure trust” models fail. So don’t rely only on ideological alignment, build procedural trust instead. Examples include small, regular deliverables (“what did we actually ship?”), rotating facilitation, transparent public logs where possible, and shared infrastructure ownership, so no single person holds control. Trust grows from repeated, visible action.
Clear boundary rules prevent both NGO capture and chaos. Without boundaries, affinity groups dissolve. Keep rules simple and aligned with #KISS: anyone can observe, participation requires contribution, decisions are made by consent or rough consensus, and there are no permanent leaders, focus more on rotating roles. Forking is allowed, following federation principles. This mirrors ActivityPub socially as well as technically.
Mediation is built into #OMN. Use soft mediation practices such as assuming good faith but verifying through actions, and asking whether behaviour supports the shared task. When conflicts cannot be resolved, allow parallel experiments rather than endless arguments. This avoids the classic problem of well-meaning people unintentionally derailing collective work.
Avoid the #NGO trap from the start. Instead of mission statements, boards, and strategic documents, focus on working notes, small experiments, and iterative prototypes. Document reality rather than intentions. NGO structures often push power upward; affinity groups keep power at the edges.
Bridge-building with #FOSS and Fediverse communities is essential for adoption. Frame #OMN affinity groups as neither anti-engineering nor anti-structure, but anti-centralised control. Messaging like “we’re applying federation principles socially, not just technically” resonates strongly with #ActivityPub builders and open-source contributors.
Growth should happen through replication, not scaling. The affinity group is not the movement – it is a seed node. New participants do not simply accumulate; instead, new affinity groups form. Groups coordinate through federation via shared protocols and culture. This approach mirrors #Indymedia nodes, the early Fediverse, and many successful activist networks.
Concrete first steps: identify 3–5 people already doing related work; define one narrow OMN goal; hold a weekly 60–90-minute working session with a public log; rotate facilitation from the beginning; and ship something small within two weeks. Momentum builds legitimacy.
Affinity groups solve three problems simultaneously: they prevent NGO-style centralisation, reduce lone-founder burnout through shared responsibility, and resist #dotcons growth-for-growth’s-sake logic. In many ways, they are the social equivalent of federation.
If we want meaningful change rather than internal noise, it helps to talk less about individual personalities and more about roles, structures, and class. Individuals come and go, but the patterns they operate within repeat. Shifting focus this way isn’t about avoiding accountability, it’s about understanding the dynamics that shape behaviour across projects and communities.
When we centre individuals, discussions drift into blame or hero narratives, which generates more temporary heat than permanent light. When we look more at structural incentives, cultural habits, and class dynamics, we start to see why the same problems reappear across different spaces – from grassroots projects to NGOs to #FOSS communities.
This is a signal-to-noise issue. A #KISS approach helps: keep analysis simple, structural, and grounded in shared experience. By reducing personalisation and increasing systemic understanding, we create more room for collaboration, learning, and mediation, which is important when building sustainable paths like the #openweb and #OMN.
What we then need to compost. It’s a normal mainstreaming augment that systems built primarily on trust will inevitably rot, decay, and collapse. That concern is understandable. Many people’s lived experience tells them that without strong control structures, things fall apart. And honestly – sometimes they do.
But the story is more complicated than that. First, there are long-term examples of trust-based or grassroots systems working, though they rarely look neat or institutional enough to be recognised as “successful” by mainstream standards. The difficulty is that these systems are best understood through participation rather than observation. They are lived processes, not static models. I document some of this history on my site, but reading alone rarely communicates the full reality, experience does.
Second, yes, grassroots projects can be damaged by well-meaning people. That isn’t paranoia; it’s everyday reality. Social dynamics, unconscious habits from institutional culture, and imported control patterns all create friction. The #OMN approach accepts this and builds mediation strategies directly into projects. These strategies are imperfect, and we often get things wrong, but acknowledging the problem openly is part of making the work sustainable.
And to the harder question: if good intentions can cause disruption, what happens when bad actors show up? The answer is that no system is immune. Control-heavy systems fail too – sometimes more dramatically because their rigidity hides problems until they become catastrophic. The goal isn’t to create a perfect system (the classic #geekproblem), but to build a more humane messy system that can adapt, respond, and recover.
All functioning social systems are messy. Trying to eliminate that mess usually creates more fragility, not less. Instead, the path forward is to embrace smaller, resilient units that federate horizontally, many small experiments linked together rather than one central structure trying to manage everything. This is where the #fediverse and projects like #OMN become interesting: we now have technologies that allow small-scale trust networks to interconnect without collapsing into centralized control.
Will people try to take control or undermine these spaces? Of course. That’s part of reality. The work is to build cultures and processes that mediate this continuously, rather than pretending it can be eliminated.
What we maybe need to convince sceptical engineers is not ideology but demonstrated failure modes and working counter-patterns. Trust-based systems are not naive if they are designed with clear threat models, transparent processes, and layered social/technical safeguards. The question is not “can grassroots projects fail?” – all systems fail – but whether they fail visibly, recover ably, and without capture.
Long-lived commons like Wikipedia moderation structures, Debian governance, early Apache development, and parts of the Fediverse show that in tech messy, trust-anchored collaboration can operate for decades when legitimacy is distributed and process is open. #OMN is not proposing blind trust; it proposes observable trust – where actions, history, and reputation are legible through open process (#4opens), allowing engineers to audit the social layer much like they audit code.
The real engineering challenge is not eliminating messiness (a classic #geekproblem trap), but designing systems where messiness becomes resilient rather than brittle. Nobody said it would be easy, but difficulty doesn’t mean impossibility. It means the work is social as much as technical.
None of this new – as Bakunin put it, “The peoples’ revolution will arrange its revolutionary organization from the bottom up and from the periphery to the centre, in keeping with the principle of liberty.” Whether or not we use the language of revolution, the underlying insight is practical rather than ideological: durable systems grow from lived participation outward, not from abstract design imposed from above.
In #openweb and #OMN thinking, this means building structures that enable agency at the edges while allowing coordination to emerge through federation and shared practice. The goal isn’t purity or perfection, but resilient networks where trust, mediation, and collective responsibility evolve through use – messy, iterative, and grounded in real communities rather than centralized control.
Across Europe, large-scale “mainstreaming” tech projects are increasingly shaping the future of the digital commons. From infrastructure initiatives to sovereign cloud strategies and federated social technologies, the EU tech stack is becoming more organised, more funded, and more institutionalised.
On the surface, this looks like progress. But history suggests that without active counter-currents, #mainstreaming inevitably drifts toward bureaucracy, risk-aversion, and quiet capture by institutional and corporate interests. The problem is almost all current European tech funding is poured down the drain of soft painless corruption.
This is why a small but intentional flow of funding toward grassroots, activist, and counter-cultural projects within #FOSS is not a luxury, it is essential infrastructure.
Innovation rarely if ever starts in the mainstream
Most genuinely transformative ideas in #FOSS and free software and #openweb did not originate from institutional programmes. They came from messy edges of volunteer collectives, activist media projects feed by autonomous spaces building #FOSS social infrastructure.
These environments allow experimentation without needing immediate legitimacy or scalability. They tolerate failure and contradiction, conditions that mainstream programmes often cannot. Without supporting these edge spaces, mainstream funding feeds an echo chamber that only produces incremental improvements, if any, to existing paradigms. Counter-currents are not only opposition; they are the ecosystem that generates future pathways.
Activism keeps governance honest
Institutional projects naturally optimise for stability, compliance, and reputation. This creates blind spots where needed difficult political questions get softened and avoided, governance becomes less participatory over time leading to decisions shift toward funders and professional stakeholders. Activist communities provide necessary friction by asking uncomfortable questions about power concentration and co-option by #NGO and corporate actors.
This friction is often misinterpreted as negativity or disruption. In reality, it acts as a corrective force that keeps projects aligned with the original European values, and the values of the #openweb and #FOSS. Without activist pressure, mainstreaming tends toward the same #closedweb patterns it now claims to be resisting.
Diversity of approach is a resilience strategy
A healthy ecosystem requires multiple approaches operating simultaneously, with institutional scaling projects in balance with community-led infrastructure. When funding flows only toward “safe” and easily measurable projects, the ecosystem loses adaptive capacity. Counter-currents provide alternative models and paths that become critical when dominant approaches fail. This is something repeatedly demonstrated in the history of internet development. Funding these spaces is therefore not charity; it is long-term risk management.
The current gap: refusal to fund counter-currents
Some current alternative funding bodies – including initiatives like #NLnet – have done valuable work supporting open technology. However, when funding structures avoid explicitly supporting activist or counter-cultural paths, a structural imbalance emerges. By prioritising technical outputs without investing in the social and political ecosystems that sustain them, funding breaks down, reinforcing the same dynamics that previously enabled enclosure and platform capture. Technical neutrality is not neutral. It implicitly favours existing power structures.
A truly balanced funding flow would intentionally support more grassroots organising capacity to build activist infrastructure projects with working governance experimentation like the #OGB to open spaces to shape community memory and historical continuity. Without this, mainstream funding cannot claim to represent the full health of the #FOSS ecosystem.
Why this matters now
The European tech stack is at a turning point. As public funding grows, so does the risk of institutionalising the very problems open technology originally emerged to resist. Activism is not only an external threat to mainstream projects, it is also a feedback system.
Supporting counter-currents prevents stagnation and helps to surface blind spots early by keeping alignment with public values. It’s needed to keep the tech ecosystem genuinely open rather than merely #NGO branded as such. The simple principle is if mainstream funding only supports what already looks safe and legitimate, it stops being an engine of innovation and becomes a mechanism of consolidation.
To keep the #openweb alive, we need funding flows that intentionally include the messy edges – the activists, the grassroots builders, and the experiments that don’t yet fit neat categories.
Not because they are comfortable, because they are necessary.
And to tell the truth we need a better balance of useful verses funding poured down the drain #NLnet#EU#NGI#NGIzero and likely more, please post in the comments.
Everywhere we look – what we see, touch, and use – we are living inside systems shaped by decades of economic and technological assumptions. This isn’t only something happening “out there”. It has been normalised and internalised over the last forty years.
The dominance of #stupidindividualism, combined with rigid economic dogma, influenced how we design technology, how we organise communities, and how we imagine progress itself. The outcomes are now starkly visible: #climatechaos, social fragmentation, and a weakening of collective sense-making.
The internet reflects this reality. Online and offline are no longer separate spaces; they feed back and reinforce each other. Recognising this isn’t only about blame, it’s more importantly about understanding the terrain we’re all navigating. These are the technology limits of the current path and why we continue to repeat familiar patterns. New platforms emerge, new interfaces are launched, yet the underlying values remain unchanged. The result does feel like endless churn to people who notice, innovation that rearranges surfaces while leaving deeper structures intact.
This isn’t simply the fault of individuals or communities. Many developers, especially within #FOSS and the #fediverse, are actively trying to build alternatives. But the broader ecosystem still pushes toward centralisation, scaling, and extraction because those are the dominant incentives of the wider paths.
So recognising our #geekproblem isn’t about rejecting technical culture – it’s about expanding it. Technical excellence alone cannot solve social problems without grounding in alt collective needs and lived social realities. This is what the #openweb means, it’s more than #blinded nostalgia for the early internet. It represents a shared direction many communities are already moving toward.
The #openweb is an internet where #4opens information is accessible regardless of platform or location, content can be shared, linked, and reused, participation is not gated by proprietary control. It’s basic: open data, open source, open standards, and open processes.
The growth of the Fediverse demonstrates that alternatives like these are possible. Decentralised social networks, community-run servers, and cooperative governance models show glimpses of a healthier digital ecosystem. Yet within these paths, tensions remain between “native” grassroots values and pressures toward #NGO#mainstreaming and power politics institutionalisation.
For this space to grow, we need to keep moving beyond false choices. On institutional paths, many proposed solutions focus solely on regulation or institutional reform, imagining that better rules will fix systemic problems. While governance matters, relying exclusively on top-down solutions risks becoming another form of dependency to add to the mess.
Another path exists alongside institutional change: horizontal, grassroots approaches rooted in #DIY practice, #4opens shared infrastructure. This path is imperfect and often messy, but it keeps agency within communities rather than outsourcing change to distant structures.
The goal is not purity, it is balance, the #OMN approach grows from this perspective. Grassroots, #DIY, non-corporate, human-scale, not disruption for its own sake, not scaling driven by venture logic. Instead, building social technology that serve collective needs while respecting individual agency. Many people within #FOSS and the Fediverse are already working toward these goals, even if they use different languages. The opportunity now is to deepen collaboration, connect projects that share values, and strengthen the social foundations alongside the technical ones.
So the path we need is about finding each other, it’s the path we made work for a while then failed on socialhub, so I need to repeat, the question isn’t whether alternatives exist, they do. The challenge is finding alignment among people who are already trying to move in similar directions, but feel isolated or fragmented.
Who recognises that technology must serve communities rather than extract from them. If you see value in grassroots, cooperative approaches to technology – if you believe the #openweb is still worth building – then the invitation is simple. Stop churning, start building. Who is ready to move beyond endless reinvention toward shared infrastructure and shared purpose?
Seeds, Safety, and the Chicken-and-Egg Problem – A Q&A on Practical Building vs Intellectual #Blocking. This explores a recurring tension in grassroots technology projects: the gap between practical historical paths and fresh “intellectual” critique, it reflects on a broader patterns seen in #openweb, #FOSS, and #DIY spaces.
Q: What is the “shared path” and why describe it as a seed?
A: The shared path is a practical response to repeated historical failure. It is not a finished solution, a moral demand, or a complete alternative system. It begins as a seed, something small, imperfect, and grounded. If you judge a seed by whether it is already a tree, nothing will ever grow. The idea is to start building despite uncertainty and allow structure to emerge rooted organically through practice.
Q: What is the main critique of this “seed” approach?
A: Critics argue that metaphors like seeds and growth avoid addressing concrete mechanisms. They focus on first-step effects: What signals are being sent? Who carries risk or unpaid labour? What moral pressures are created? What happens when survivability is deferred? From this perspective, issues must be addressed at the beginning rather than grown from the seed.
Q: Why does this debate often become circular?
A: Because both sides are asking different questions. Practical builders ask: Where do the resources come from to implement safety before anything exists? Critics ask: How do we prevent harm if we begin without safeguards? Without answering the resource question, discussions loop endlessly between ethics and feasibility.
Q: What is the “chicken-and-egg” problem here?
A: Many grassroots projects face a structural paradox: You need resources, tools, and commitment to build sustainable alternatives. But those resources only appear after something exists and demonstrates use value, agenst mainstreaming pushback Waiting for perfect conditions prevents starting; starting without resources has risks, but it’s the only thing that can grow change and challenge.
Q: What work is actually happening in practice?
A: Practical work often remains messy, distributed, and unpaid. Examples include: Supporting student journalists in rebooting grassroots media projects like Oxford #Indymedia. Motivating unfunded technical communities to collaborate on shared codebases such as #indymediaback. Maintaining ongoing organisational and community infrastructure through long-term volunteer labour. These efforts are naturally invisible and impossible to summarise because they work organically rather than following formal project structures.
Q: Why is documentation itself a source of conflict?
A: Critics ask for clear summaries or structured documentation of ongoing work. Builders simply see this as additional unpaid labour imposed on already stretched contributors. External demands that assume others should organise information for them, creates friction between expectations of accessibility and the working realities of #4opens and #DIY grassroots work.
A: In #DIY culture, participation is active rather than observational. If someone believes something needs improvement – documentation, tools, funding guides – the expectation is that they step in and contribute rather than stand outside only pointing critique. Critique without participation is too often lazy negative pressure rather than constructive help on “native” DIY paths.
Q: Is this simply a disagreement about ethics?
A: Not entirely. Both sides often share ethical concerns. The deeper disagreement is about sequence: Should, impossible and irrelevant in a practical sense, safety and compensation frameworks exist before building begins? Or can these frameworks emerge better through #DIY messy real-world working practice?
Q: What is the takeaway?
A: Grassroots building requires balancing, ethical awareness and practical starting points. Intellectual critique can help identify risks, but when detached from material constraints it too often unintentionally blocks action at best or turn into trolling at worst. Likewise, practical work can benefit from reflection, but cannot wait for perfect theoretical clarity.
The challenge is to compost both approaches into something that moves forward.
The individual, their freedom, and their capacity for reason are products of social relationships, not independent origins. Society is not built from isolated individuals; individuals arise from shared culture, history, and collective life. As society grows richer and more humane, individuals gain the conditions needed for deeper development and freedom emerges from this shared foundation.
What’s really at stake is power. The shift has to be away from private ownership and toward the commons – not just in licensing, but in governance, culture, and decision-making. The whole #OMN project is grounded in this understanding. It’s about building shared infrastructure that people can actually use, shape, and grow trust.
One of the great ironies of many “alternative” spaces is that people believe they’re resisting power, yet by locking everything down – secret decisions, closed processes, gatekeeping – they end up recreating the systems they claim to oppose. The result is stasis, nothing moves or grows, everything fragments.
Paranoia is one of the biggest blocking forces in alt-tech and radical spaces. It breeds mistrust, isolation, and internal sabotage, making collective action almost impossible. Some caution is necessary, we’re not naïve, but when paranoia becomes the default posture, it hardens into control. At that point, it stops being defensive and starts being corrupting.
The #4opens is a direct antidote to this. Transparency punctures paranoia. When decisions, processes, and networks are open, there’s less space for suspicion to fester. Trust isn’t built through secrecy or technical cleverness; it’s built through visible, accountable practice over time. Open process beats “good intentions” every time.
This is also why letting technical people make final product decisions is a mistake, overemphasizing technology then underplaying the social problems we’re actually trying to solve. We end up designing better mousetraps without ever asking whether we’re even trying to catch mice. Tech becomes the point, rather than a tool.
This is where the #fashernista problem kicks in, being seen to hold the correct stance replaces doing the work. But staying “right” while nothing changes is another form of failure. If we want alternatives that function, we have to move past paranoia, reopen flows, and accept that trust is something you build, not something you secure with walls.
The uncomfortable truth is that it’s easy to be “right” in theory. It’s much harder to take part in the compromises that building anything real requires. Most people prefer the comfort of ideological purity over the messiness of collective practice, especially when dealing with complex social truths. That’s the trap.
#OMN is often critiqued as if it were a finished system, a moral framework, or an alternative economy. It is none of those things. We need to be clear about scope, sequence, and intent if discussion is going to move forward instead of circling the same ground.
#OMN is a commons-first, tool-building project. It exists to create shared infrastructure, processes, and cultural practices that can grow non-extractive media and communication. It prioritizes shared ownership, open process (#4opens), and reducing capture in order to build the needed public-first infrastructure. It’s about creating conditions, not declaring outcomes.
It’s an early-phase project, an affinity-building space to create tools and governance to reconnect fragmented activist and media histories. It is not claiming to already provide economic survivability, stable long-term livelihoods, or a full replacement for existing systems. Confusing the step with the destination is the root of most disagreement.
It’s grounded in lived historical practice. #OMN grows out of more than 30 years of real projects – Indymedia, grassroots media, squatting and DIY cultures, trust-based networks – and a clear view of where #NGO-driven paths have failed. This history matters. The path is not speculative theory, it’s an attempt to compost what worked, acknowledge what failed, and try again with better tools.
That’s based on a simple historical reality, society does not pay people to challenge itself. Early change is driven by passion, not wages, and support structures emerge after commons exist, not before. This isn’t a moral claim, it’s an observation drawn from experience. #OMN is also a space where tone is a process tool. Friction is used to slow things down, open space for challenge, and form affinity where none yet exists. This is messy by design, not a finished social contract.
We don’t set out to solve how everyone is paid, how risk is evenly distributed, or how long-term security is guaranteed. These are unsolved problems, not denied ones. #OMN exists because these tools do not yet exist, so expecting it to already provide them misunderstands its scope and phase. Participation is voluntary, alignment is practical, not moral. Funding may be used tactically, but OMN is not structured around chasing it.
This is not a safe, smooth, or finished space. The path is unfinished, uneven, and sometimes uncomfortable. If a project has to be safe, stable, and fully funded before it can exist, it will never challenge anything.
The core misunderstanding is that the #OMN is judged for failing to deliver something it has never claimed to already be. What we are doing is building the tools that make survivability possible later, without reproducing the failures that keep repeating. That work is slow, messy, and incomplete – because it has to be.
The shared path is a practical response to repeated historical failure. It is not a promise, a moral demand, or a finished alternative. If you judge a seed by whether it is already a tree, you will never grow anything.
Why groups matter, in our “common sense” we like to pretend society is made up of strong, independent individuals who freely choose everything about their lives. That story is comforting, but it’s also mostly false, humans are group creatures first. People don’t start as individuals. We are born into families, cultures, languages, histories. Our values, assumptions, and sense of what’s “normal” are learned socially long before we ever get a chance to reflect on them. Groups aren’t an add-on to human life – they’re the foundation.
Individual identity is hard work, as modern culture tells us we must be ourselves, define our own path, build a unique identity. But doing that alone is exhausting, being an “individual” means constant self-definition, self-presentation, self-justification. You’re never finished as you’re always proving who you are, to employers, platforms, institutions, and peers.
That permanent uncertainty is what people mean when they talk about burnout, anxiety, and imposter syndrome. Groups reduce that pressure, as belonging to a group shares the load, with values, purpose, norms, responsibility. You don’t have to invent everything from scratch, you’re part of something that existed before you and will continue after you. This isn’t about conformity, it’s about being human, support and continuity.
The current #deathcult myth of pure individual freedom, where individuals are fully free and self-made #KISS serves power. When people are isolated, all problems look personal instead of structural, failure feels like a moral flaw and collective solutions disappear. You can’t organise if everyone thinks and acts as if they’re alone.
Healthy groups vs. toxic groups, yep, groups aren’t automatically good. Some are rigid, exclusionary and authoritarian. Healthy groups are porous and open to change, allow disagreement, are based on trust, not fear and exist to serve their members, not control them. The solution to bad groups isn’t no groups – it’s better ones.
Why this matters for media and the web? The #openweb wasn’t built by isolated individuals chasing personal brands. It grew out of horizontal’ish communities, shared tools, and mutual aid. What broke it, was pushing of individual status, platforms replacing communities then metrics replacing relationships. Projects like #OMN are about rebuilding group-based publishing, shared infrastructure, and collective voice, not amplifying lone influencers.
In short, (stupid) Individualism puts people in a permanent liminal state – alone, unstable, competing. Groups give people grounding, belonging, continuity, and the ability to act together. If we want social change, resilient media, and a future beyond the current mess, we on balance don’t need better individuals, we need better groups.
I proposed a long time ago that #openweb is a less tribal, more expansive framing than #fediverse socially and technically. It’s also #nothingnew, which is honestly a breath of fresh air. We can (and should) use both terms, but if we want meaningful change and challenge to the #mainstreaming mess, we need to foreground the more generic one.
Predictably, this gets pushback from two directions: the non-political #FOSS crowd, and the mainstreaming crew. And yes, when you bring #NGO behaviour into the #fediverse, there’s going to be friction. Try being #openweb-native on this, please.
People are going to keep doing self- and socially-destructive things. That’s a human problem, not a branding one. But the language we choose does shape how we respond to it.
One of the reasons we use a #4opens process is to balance the reality that people often arrive with strong opinions before understanding the history, context, or existing work. The process isn’t there to exclude anyone, it’s there to slow things down just enough so people can orient themselves before trying to reshape what already exists.
At the moment this only works partially, because some people still interpret being asked to explore existing materials as dismissal. For example “You have sent me on a ride through Mastodon posts and two repos while not providing direct answers.”
What may feel like dismissal is actually part of a #DIY open process. The intention is to encourage people to engage with the work already done so conversations can move forward from shared context rather than restarting the same debates repeatedly.
Similarly: “Why assume blog archaeology is the right approach instead of presenting everything in a more processed way?” In grassroots projects, documentation is often messy, organic, and evolving rather than packaged into clean summaries. Exploring this material isn’t busywork, it’s a way to understand the social and historical layers that shape the project. Without that grounding, discussions can unintentionally repeat old loops to propose changes that have already been explored.
And when people say: “Most people don’t have time or energy for this.” That’s a real constraint, but it also highlights the core challenge. Open, collective projects rely on participants investing some effort to understand shared context. Without that, the burden shifts onto existing contributors to repeatedly re-explain the basics, which keeps stalling progress.
The aim here is not gatekeeping or dismissal. It’s #KISS: keep the process simple, open, and grounded in shared effort. If something needs improving – documentation, summaries, onboarding – the most constructive path in a #DIY culture is to step in and help build that improvement together.
A post sparked Hacker News spouting of noise and smoke. It looks like “just fork it.” phrase in #FOSS culture provokes heat. So worth a second look, for some it’s the purest expression of freedom, to others, it’s a conversation-stopper that quietly protects power. What’s striking isn’t that one side is right and the other wrong, it’s that people are too often talking about entirely different things, while using overlapping words, thus the smoke and heat in the linked discussion above.
It’s worth a little time to look at this issue. The pro-fork view is about permissionless agency. From the classic #Geekproblem perspective, “just fork it” is not an insult or a dismissal, it’s a reminder of where power actually lies. The arguments, often bad-tempered, go like this: Open source removes the need for permission, maintainers are not obligated to implement anyone else’s ideas, if you want something different, you can do the work yourself, forks are non-hostile, temporary, and often merge back.
In this view, forking is not fragmentation, it’s pressure relief, to protects maintainers from entitlement, unpaid labour demands, and endless arguments over direction. It’s also what makes #FOSS resilient: even if a maintainer disappears or a project takes a turn you dislike, the code remains usable.
For libraries, tools, and infrastructure components, this works remarkably well. Many developers maintain private forks, carry patches for clients, or experiment freely without any intention of creating a new community. No drama, no schism, no ideology “mess”, just work. From this “native” angle, criticism of “just fork it” sounds like a demand for obligation where none exists.
The counterpoint is that forks aren’t free in social systems, the critique isn’t only about forking code, everyone agrees that’s normal, healthy, and foundational. The tension is when “just fork it” is applied to social platforms, protocols, and shared infrastructure, systems where the software is only a small part of the project.
Running a fork as a new public project isn’t only technical work, it needs: attracting users, building trust, maintaining governance, handling conflict, sustaining moderation and care and thus carrying long-term responsibility. This is where the phrase starts to feel different, in these contexts, “just fork it” is heard not as empowerment, but as exit over engagement, a way to avoid dealing with governance failures, power asymmetries, or unresolved social conflicts inside an existing social project.
From a social #OMN perspective, this isn’t neutral, forking risks: splitting attention, duplicating effort, losing shared history, weakening already fragile commons. Forking may preserve freedom, but it can still destroy value. Forks vs schisms is maybe a way to look at this:
forks – technical divergence
schisms – social rupture
You can fork without a schism, but every schism requires a fork. Many arguments talk past each other on this, because one side is defending the right to fork, while the other is warning about the cost of schisms. These are related, but not identical. Power, ownership, and stewardship, are fault lines about how people understand authority.
One view holds that open source projects are a #feudalistic kingship – benevolent or not – and contributors knowingly accept this. Maintainers owe nothing, forking is the safety valve.
The opposing view sees projects as commons built from collective labour where maintainers are stewards rather than owners, carrying responsibilities that go beyond “my repo, my rules.”
Neither position is imaginary, both exist in the wild. The conflict arises when a project quietly shifts from one model to the other without naming it.
Why this matters for OMN-style projects, they are explicitly social, federated, and historical, they depend on: continuity, shared narrative, visible governance, memory. In this context, common sense “just fork it” instincts unintentionally reinforce the problems #4open paths are meant to solve: fragmentation, invisibility of power, and loss of collective learning.
That doesn’t mean maintainers owe endless emotional labour It does mean that governance and mediation matter as much as code, and can’t be solved by technical exits alone. Two truths at once, the debate becomes clearer if we hold these two truths together:
No one owes you unpaid labour, forking is a legitimate, necessary protection for maintainers.
Social infrastructure is not just software, treating forks as cost-free exits erodes shared commons over time.
When people argue past each other, it’s usually because they’re defending one truth while denying the other. This creates mess, social mess. So to compost this mess, we need to understand better where this leaves us, “Just fork it” is neither a delusion nor a universal solution, it is:
healthy in libraries and tools
essential as a last resort
dangerous as a reflex
corrosive when used to silence governance questions
The real work – the hard, unglamorous part – is knowing which situation you’re in, and being honest about the social costs of the choices you make. That’s not a technical problem, it’s a cultural one, best not to be a prat about this.
This matters because we have social problems created by tech intolerances, #blocking culture. The #dotcons industry’s ability to pull the ladder up behind itself should not be underestimated.
We’ve created digital systems so complex, fragile, and professionally gated that an entire generation is being locked out of owning and understanding their own tools. Communities and people should be able to run their own services, control their own data, and participate meaningfully in digital culture, but few can, because we made everything unnecessarily controlled and complicated.
This wasn’t an accident, it’s a part of the #eekproblem, complexity concentrates power, it creates dependency on experts, platforms, and the corporations that have been quietly erasing the possibility of autonomy. What once required curiosity and modest effort now demands specialist knowledge, constant updates, and institutional backing. The result is a widening gap between those who can build and control systems, and those who are forced to rent/beg access to them.
This is why #KISS simplicity matters, why documentation matters and most importantly why social tooling matters as much as code. And why the #openweb was always about people, not only protocols. When we ignore this, we don’t just lose users, we lose a generation’s ability to imagine, agency, and collective control in the first place.
The current #dotcons economy is not neutral, it is designed to centralise control in the interest of the #nastyfew, platform owners, server landlords, data hoarders. These are the financial intermediaries who extract value without producing social good, this is not an accident or a side effect, it is the business model.
We are told that inequality is the natural outcome of innovation, talent, and efficiency. In reality, it is engineered through enclosure. Digital infrastructure that could function as shared public goods is instead locked behind proprietary systems, paywalls, and terms of service designed to concentrate power upstream.
In contrast, a #4opens world starts from a different premise, that core infrastructure – both physical and digital – should be held in common and governed democratically under #FOSS principles. From platforms to commons, today, most people don’t control the tools they depend on. We rent access to our own communications, our social lives, our work, and even our memories. Platforms mediate these relationships, extract data, and monetise behaviour, while presenting themselves as neutral services. This rental model is currently the primary engine of inequality in digital paths.
When access is conditional, participation becomes precarious. When data is hoarded, power becomes asymmetrical. When infrastructure is privately owned, the rules are set to maximise extraction, not social value. The #4opens dismantle this logic at the root.
Open code means the tools can be inspected, modified, and shared.
Open governance means decisions are accountable and collective.
Open data means knowledge is not trapped behind corporate walls.
Open processes mean power is visible, contestable, and revisable.
Together these break the closed silos that turn users into resources and communities into markets. It’s a working path, not charity or redistribution after the fact, its focus is change and challenge of power at source. When infrastructure is open and shared, value no longer flows automatically upward. Communities build what they need, adapt to local contexts, and retain control over shaping the outcomes. The surplus created by cooperation stays where it is generated, instead of being siphoned off to distant shareholders.
This changes the nature of inequality itself. “Rich” and “poor” stop being treated as natural or permanent categories, they are revealed as outcomes of ownership models and governance choices. Change the structure, and the distribution follows? In a commons-based paths, inequality doesn’t vanish overnight, but loses its inevitability. It becomes something that can be actively reduced rather than endlessly managed. This takes us a step from dependency to autonomy.
Open infrastructure reduces dependency, when communities host their own services, control their own data, and govern their own platforms, they are no longer locked into extractive relationships. This autonomy has compounding effects: Less value leaks out of local economies, more skills and knowledge circulate horizontally, fewer people are forced into bullshit work just to survive, and most importantly, people stop working primarily to make the rich richer.
The most radical implication of the #4opens is not better tech, it’s a different story about the future. If inequality is structurally produced, then it can be structurally dismantled. Not by perfect policy, benevolent elitists, but by first changing who owns and governs the digital systems we all depend on. In that world, inequality stops being framed as a moral failing and economic necessity. It becomes a historical condition, something future generations look back on as a phase we outgrew, like feudalism or colonial monopolies.
Yes, none of this is inevitable, power will resist, enclosure always fights back. But the tools exist and knowledge exists, the choice is political. Radical reductions in inequality won’t come from better platforms or kinder billionaires. It will only come from reclaiming infrastructure as commons, governed in the open, for public good.
That is the promise – and the challenge – of a #4opens world.
One of the most repeated mantras in #FOSS culture goes something like this: “If you don’t like it, just fork it.”On the surface, this sounds empowering. And technically, it is true. The beauty of open source is that you can take the Mastodon source code, fork it, and do whatever you want with it. Don’t like how it’s run? Do something different. Don’t like the branding? Change it. Got a better idea? Implement it.
But socially, this mantra is misleading, forking is easy, sustaining is hard. Forking code is cheap, sustaining a living project is not. What “just fork it” quietly ignores is that software is only a small part of what makes a project work. The hard parts are social: users, trust, shared norms, governance, maintenance, conflict resolution and long-term care.
When people say “just fork it,” they usually mean “remove yourself from the social problem rather than engaging with it.” That’s not empowerment – it’s fragmentation at best and prat behaver at worst.
From an #OMN point of view, sometimes this is needed, but its rare as it is mostly value destruction. Fragmentation isn’t neutrality, every fork splits attention, energy, documentation, user bases, and developer time. Most forks don’t die because the code is bad; they die because the social surface area is untrusted or unmanageable.
We end up with: dozens of half-maintained projects, duplicated effort, incompatible implementations, project communities too small to support themselves. This isn’t resilience, it’s entropy, not in a good way. And worse, most of these forks are isolated socially, even when they are technically compatible. The result is lost value, lost history, and lost trust – rinse, repeat, move on.
“Just fork it” hides power, it doesn’t challenge it. The slogan pretends to be anti-authority, but in practice it is used to protect informal power. Core teams stay untouched, governance questions are avoided, structural problems remain unresolved. The people most affected – users, moderators, small contributors – are quietly told to leave and rebuild everything from scratch.
That’s not openness, that’s abdication, it’s a prat move that we need to compost. In social terms, it’s the equivalent of saying: “If you don’t like society, go start your own civilisation.” Contribution is not about submission. There is a healthier, but, less glamorous path – start conversations that include people you disagree with, yes, this is slower than forking. It’s also how shared infrastructure survives.
What we need to talk more about is that contribution is not about obedience to maintainers. It’s about stewardship of commons. That means staying in the mess, mediating conflict, and resisting the urge to walk away every time something feels wrong. Forking skips the hardest step: collective sense-making.
Small steps beat heroic exits, the myth of the heroic fork mirrors the wider #geekproblem: the belief that technical control can replace social process. Change usually comes from boring work, partial wins, awkward compromises, long conversations, incremental shifts, not from dramatic exits. Yes, forks in #FOSS have a place, but not as a default. Forking does matter. It’s an escape hatch. A pressure valve. A last resort when projects become irredeemably captured or hostile. But when “just fork it” becomes the first response instead of the last, it stops being a freedom and becomes #geekproblem pathology.
From a social #OMN standpoint, the goal isn’t endless new projects. It’s shared infrastructure that can be argued with, adapted, and cared for over time. Open source gives us the right to fork, open culture asks us when not to. If we want something better than endless reinvention and burnout, we need to stop treating “just fork it” as wisdom – and start treating it as what it often is: a refusal to do the harder social work in #FOSS
A cohesive manifesto is needed as the world we inherited is fractured. Wealth, power, and knowledge are concentrated in the hands of the #nastyfew: platform owners, data hoarders, and corporate monopolies who extract value from our work, our attention, and our trust. Democracy has been hollowed out, captured and controlled by algorithms that decide what is knowable, profitable, and even true. Ecology, community, and care are sacrificed on the #deathcult altar of growth and consumption.
In this mess, the Open Media Network (#OMN) is a #KISS project that exists to reclaim the digital commons, reshape society, and redefine what is possible when power, knowledge, and technology are returned to the people.
In the current #dotcons economy, access to infrastructure, information, and governance is rent-based and extractive. Communities pay to participate, and the surplus flows to distant shareholders.
The #4opens – open code, open governance, open data, open processes – upend this system. Putting tools of creation and coordination into grassroots democratic, collective stewardship. Value no longer flows automatically upward; it stays with the communities that generate it.
On this path, inequality stops being “natural.” Rich and poor are revealed as structural outcomes of enclosure and extraction. By reclaiming infrastructure as a commons, we recompose power, and inequality becomes a historical memory, not a permanent fact.
The logic of capitalism equates growth with progress, but infinite growth on a finite planet is impossible. Digital goods – knowledge, code, culture, and coordination – are non-rivalrous, replicable, and shareable. By moving value into open, digital abundance, the material basis of economic expansion shrinks.
This frees human effort to focus on ecological outcomes. Energy systems can localise, circular economies can flourish, and extraction-driven industries can shrink. Consumerism no longer masquerades as culture. Life becomes about care, collaboration, and sustainability. In a post-consumption economy, human needs are met without destroying the biosphere
What we need to compost is the closed, corporate networks, that, reduce people to metrics: clicks, views, and engagement scores, where connection is commodified, communities dissolve into attention economies. Moving to #4opens networks reverse this. Open, modifiable, and transparent paths and systems allow communities to rebuild trust, care, and reciprocity. Collaboration happens without permission, and relationships can persist across distance and time. Communities stop belonging to brands and start belonging to people. Social infrastructure becomes a tool for power and resilience rather than extraction.
The capitalist world naturalised exploitation, scarcity, and secrecy. Our “common sense” became a prison: work more, compete, hoard, distrust. The #4opens world undoes this conditioning. Open infrastructure and governance teach us that scarcity is artificial, cooperation is powerful, and secrecy serves control, not communities. Common sense is no longer what capitalism told us, it is what we collectively choose, this open thinking makes new realities possible.
The transitory shaping of privacy as we imagined it is gone, the #dotcons and surveillance states already see everything. Closed systems cannot protect us; secrecy is a lost battle. The solution is radical transparency. Open metadata, and commons-based governance shift power away from hidden extractors and toward the public. Privacy becomes collective control over visibility: who sees what, and with what accountability. In this world, transparency is justice, and knowledge is a tool of liberation.
In a #4opens world, exchange is no longer driven solely by money. Scarcity loses its grip when knowledge, code, and infrastructure are freely shared. Value can be recognized, tracked, and distributed openly. We give not to accumulate, but to re-balance. Contribution is measured in social and ecological impact, not profit. Capitalism made money sacred; #4opens break that spell, opening paths to redistribute both material and social power.
The next bubble, current #AI – #LLMs and ML #systems – is not intelligent. There is no path from these tools to general intelligence. What exists is pattern-matching, statistical correlation, and corporate extraction of public knowledge. But handing locked-up data to corporate systems strengthens anti-democracy structures. Instead of enabling “innovation”, it reinforces surveillance, centralisation, and algorithmic control. Real intelligence is collective, embodied, and social. True change and challenge emerges not from hype bubbles or closed corporate labs, but from communities building shared knowledge and infrastructure in the open.
Fascism vs. Cooperation – Fascism treats collaboration as weakness, hierarchy as inevitable, and domination as the only path to power. It cannot be trusted and cannot survive in open, cooperative networks. The #OMN path is the opposite: power through participation, resilience through trust, and flourishing through shared infrastructure. Communities that cooperate can sustain themselves, adapt, and grow, while isolationist, extractive paths, systems and tools wither. Cooperation is not optional, it is the foundation of any path to security, survival, and progress.
The choice before us, the world we inherited, is extractive, enclosed, and unsustainable. But the tools to reclaim power, knowledge, and community already exist. In #FOSS, the #4opens – applied to infrastructure, governance, culture, and knowledge – allow us to reduce inequality structurally, not through charity, but with rebuilding social trust and care, aligning human activity with ecological limits to make knowledge a public good, not a corporate asset.
Open Media Network is not a platform. It is a social path, to a world where power is distributed, knowledge is shared, and society is governed by the people who live in it. We are not asking for permission. We are building the commons, the question is not whether we can succeed, the question is whether we will choose to. History will remember what we did in this moment.
Why do we need to be this change and challange – when the vertical stack is captured, this is not simply a “shift to the right” in technology, ideas, or voting patterns. It is something deeper and far more dangerous: the capture of institutions themselves, the state as infrastructure. What we are witnessing is the hard right learning how to weaponise liberal, vertical systems against the values those systems claime to uphold.
This capture runs all the way down the stack. From the #dotcons to national governments and regulatory bodies; from university chancellors to local councils; from courts to media regulators. Structures that were designed – at least rhetorically – to mediate power are being repurposed as tools of repression, exclusion, and control.
Crucially, this is done using the language and procedures of liberalism itself: law and order, efficiency, neutral administration, security, common sense. The shell remains liberal. The content is no longer so.
Vertical systems are inherently brittle. They concentrate authority, normalise hierarchy, and rely on trust in institutions rather than participation in decision-making. When functioning well, they can stabilise society. When captured, they become perfect instruments for authoritarianism.
Once the hard right gains control of vertical institutions, it does not need to abolish democracy outright. Instead, it quietly redefines who counts, who is heard, and who is excluded. Algorithms are shaped. Funding rules tightened. Governance boards reshuffled. Enforcement priorities rewritten. Dissent is hollowed out while everything is insisted to be “within the rules.”
Universities become compliance factories. Local councils become enforcement arms. NGOs are defunded or disciplined. Media becomes “responsible.” Protest becomes “extremism.” This is not a breakdown of the liberal system, it is the system functioning as designed, but for different ends.
A dangerous illusion persists: that when the political pendulum swings back, these systems can simply be “returned to normal.” History tells us otherwise. Once vertical systems are captured, they are extremely difficult to bring back to any liberal-centrist path. Rules have been rewritten. Personnel replaced. Norms broken. Trust eroded. Appeals to fairness or precedent no longer land, because the system’s function has shifted from mediation to domination.
This is why “defending institutions” on its own is not enough. Institutions built on vertical authority cannot defend themselves once their legitimacy has been repurposed. At that point, asking them to save democracy is like asking a locked door to open itself from the outside.
Why horizontal power matters, and grassroots, federated power stops being a nice idea and becomes a necessary tool of change. Horizontal systems – commons-based networks, federated media, open governance, mutual aid, cooperative infrastructure – do not depend on permission from captured institutions. They distribute power, knowledge, and coordination across communities instead of concentrating it at the top.
In #OMN terms, this is about balancing power, not fantasising about purity, collapse, or revolution-as-spectacle. When vertical power becomes hostile, horizontal power provides resilience. It creates parallel capacities for communication, care, legitimacy, and collective action.
Federated systems are harder to capture because they have no single choke point. They can route around repression. They can survive attacks. They can continue to function even when formal institutions turn against the people they claim to represent.
We should be clear-eyed about where this leads. When vertical systems are captured and horizontal power is absent, pressure builds. History shows the likely outcomes: civil unrest, civil war, or international intervention. These are not abstract risks. They are structural consequences of power being monopolised without legitimacy.
Building horizontal power is not about accelerating conflict. It is about reducing the likelihood of catastrophic collapse by giving societies non-violent ways to rebalance power. When people have no voice, no access, and no agency, conflict becomes inevitable. When people can organise, communicate, and build alternatives, escalation can be resisted.
Its the strategic choice, the question is no longer whether horizontal power is desirable. The question is whether we build it before the remaining liberal structures are fully repurposed against us. The Open Media Network, the #4opens, federated governance, and open knowledge are not ideological luxuries. They are infrastructure for democratic survival in a world where vertical systems are increasingly hostile.
We are entering a period where balance – not dominance – will determine whether societies fracture or adapt. Horizontal power is what remains when the state forgets who it is meant to serve. Then the future will not be decided by who controls the top of the stack, but by whether people at the edges still have the means to organise, to speak, and to act together.
And that is a fight worth taking seriously, while there is still time.
There are meany online exchanges about software licences that can help to highlight the #geekproblem. Yep, these conversations can sound radical at first glance:
“Software licences won’t destroy capitalism, but if they can be even slightly annoying to capitalists in the meantime, I’ll take it.”
Fair. Nobody sensible thinks a licence clause will end capitalism. Making exploitation harder while working on the material conditions that allow it to exist is reasonable. But after this, the #geekproblem to often kicks in.
Very quickly, conversations collapses inward. Instead of asking what licences are for, or how they fit into a broader social strategy, we get trapped in internal debates about #GPL vs #AGPL, #FAANG legal departments, #FSF personalities, jurisdictional edge cases, and which licence is more “annoying”.
This is classic geek tunnel vision as the question shifts from power to mechanism, political outcomes to technical purity, and then collective strategy to individual preference and irritation. At this point, the original political intent is already lost.
Yes, saying “we should use licences that protect against FAANG abuses” doesn’t cut it. FAANGs aren’t a licensing problem, it’s a political and economic problem, they shouldn’t exist at all. Pouring huge amounts of energy into licence debates while quietly forgetting the actual goal of changing the social and economic conditions that make enclosure, extraction, and platform dominance possible.
This is why #FOSS needs to be socialised, licences are tools, not politics, they only matter insofar as they support collective power, shared infrastructure, and commons-based production. When they become identity markers, moral badges and endless argument fuel, they stop being useful and start becoming obstacles.
The #4opens framework exists to cut through this mess. Not to find the “perfect” licence, but to ask simpler, grounded questions:
Is the code open?
Is the process open?
Is the governance open?
Is the outcome open and reusable?
If those aren’t true, arguing about GPL vs AGPL is mostly noise.
The #dotcons cannot be fixed by clever licensing. And the #fashionistas endlessly flocking to new “ethical-ish” platforms aren’t helping either. What matters is building native, grassroots, public-first infrastructure, and keeping our eyes on that horizon.
So please, use licences tactically, sure. Make capital’s life harder where you can. But don’t confuse irritation with transformation. That confusion – mistaking technical manoeuvring for political progress – is the heart of the #geekproblem.
Long live the GPL, AGPL, or whatever works in context. But without social organisation, collective ownership, and open governance, they’re just paperwork in a burning world.
